Breaking Point
by SlowChild
Summary: Gil Grissom is not like most men. But there is a sure fire way to break every man. And thats to take away his women. Rated T for language and violence.
1. Self Preservation

Disclaimer : I dont own nothing. I aint making a profit. Legal action would be completely unnecessary.

My apologies in advance, first story for this show. First story ever written period. And I have a tendency to leave out apostrophes.

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**Chapter 1 - Self Preservation**

Boy, am I in a pickle. 13 cases covered up. 8 of them cold, unsolved. 5 of them have the wrong man behind bars. Oh, what have I done? I was simply trying to protect my family. My brother. But now, this is completely out of hand. Arthur, you idiot! Look what you've done to me. For 5 years I busted my balls to keep this secret. If only I had never been there, the day they showed up.

**_5 years ago..._**

_Conrad Ecklie stood in a poorly furnished kitchen, glaring down at what seemed to be a broken man, who could be his twin, if it werent for his sandy brown hair and taller stature. The worried man lifted his head, and with anguished eyes, he begged to Conrad._

_"Connie? Please.." he pleaded. Conrad just scoffed._

_"Cut the crap Arthur! Did you really think you could just fuck with their money? And that they would just let it slide?" Conrad snapped. Arthurs face paled, and he swallowed hard._

_"It wasnt just the money, Bub." He trailed off._

_"For fucks sake, Art, drugs too?" Conrad asked. Arthur looked up at him, tears in his eyes, and nodded his head. Conrad threw his hands up, and began to frantically pace the kitchen._

_"Well what the hell are you gonna do? Do you understand what these people are gonna do to you if they get their hands on you?" Conrad all but shrieked at his brother. However, Arthurs answer was cut off by a rustling sound outside. The brothers stared at eachother, frozen in fear. Neither did they move when the back door crashed in, and 3 men of latino descent entered brandishing guns._

_And it was at the time, Conrad made an offer, that could cost his life and his career, for his brothers immunity._

Of course Im glad I was there. They surely would have killed him on the spot. Besides I had to do something, Im all hes got. Even if sometimes he seems like more trouble than hes worth. He was a brilliant kid, puzzles, math, he could have had a great future. But its Vegas, and when your not too terrible at counting cards, the chance to make the easy money is alot more alluring. But he got lazy, and greedy. He dragged me through the dirt with him.

All these lies. A tangled web of lies. My job, my life, my everything, seconds away from falling apart. Because some crackpot forgot to call in his motherfucking crime! So my dayshift cant touch it. No, its going to go to _his_ CSI's. His eager to please, ready to solve, cover every possible angle, follow the evidence CSI's. And they will follow the evidence, follow it to another case, and another case, and another case, all with one thing in common: my name. Because when they get there they will see the obvious gang connections. Cross referrence that with other cases, and everything will unravel. And theres a snowballs chance in hell that I will be able to break one of them. They wouldnt want to risk Grissom finding out. No, they have to make daddy proud. But I have to do something, something to distract them. Something to cripple him.

But how do you cripple a man? You must take away what is most precious to him. His women. I know now what I must do. To protect myself. Self-preserverance. The lengths a man will go to protect himself are boundless. But if this falls wide open, they wont just kill Arthur, they will kill me too. I have to call Ignacio, its the only way I know how to contact any of them, ever since that night, 3 weeks after I made that deal.

_**4 years and 49 weeks ago...**_

_Conrad sat in his car, fumbling through is pockets for his wallet. 'After a day like this, I need some beer,' he thought. He sighed and opened his car door, and stood up to see if his wallet might have fallen onto the seat. He didnt see the man approach him from behind, knife in hand. Conrad grabbed his wallet from off the seat and turn to see the man waving the blade threateningly. The man quickly closed the distance between them, and pressed the tip into Conrads stomach, not enough to break skin but enough to remind him how sharp it was. He snatched the wallet from Conrads hands, and opened it to see how much money he had just picked, when he noticed the ID. The man paled and stepped back, putting the knife down.  
_

_"S-s-senor Ecklie," he stuttered,"I am so sorry. I-I-I-I didnt know it was you, sir." Conrads face slowly twisted into a smug grin, but he was soon destracted by a new presence._

_"Hey, is everything alright out here?" It was the owner of the liquor store. Conrad thought for a second then pulled the other man closer to him, and kept his arm around the mans shoulders, his grin turning into a full blown smile._

_"Not at all. Hes an old college buddy from out of town." The owner looked down at the knife in the other mans hand, and back up at Conrad._

_"Oh that," Conrad said, forcing a laugh, "He always did get a little out of hand with his pranks. Dirty little fucker. But hes harmless, except to maybe your ego."_

_"I always said your just too damn serious," The man spoke up, playing along, "You need to lighten up sometimes." The man laughed, Conrad looked at him, still smiling. The owner looked at them skeptically, but went back inside. His eyes never leaving them. _

_Conrad looked to the other man, motioned to the car and told him to get in. They pulled out of the parking lot and drove 3 blocks in silence._

_Suddenly Conrad asks, "So where can I take you? You're already in the car, I might as well as drop you off where ever you were heading before you tried to rob me."_

_The man turned to face Conrad, looked visibly shaken. "I'm terribly about that, sir. Thank you. For lying to that clerk."_

_"Its fine, dont worry about it. So, do you have a name? You know mine, its only fair you tell me yours."_

_"It's Ignacio."_

After that encounter, I learned alot. That they didnt just pardon Arthur and grant him immunity, but that it was extended to me aswell. That they had every intention of using what I had to offer, and as such didnt want to jeopardize that by upsetting me. By things like I dunno, petty theft. And so we established a set of terms and conditions. The first being I dont condone gang violence. The second being, if however they do end up committing an act of robbery or murder, theres a certain time frame with which the authorities need to be notified. I made it specifically clear that if the case lands outside of dayshift, theres nothing I could do about it. And back then, if that had happend, it wouldnt be such a big deal. My involvement so minimal, would have been easy to cover up. But not five years later. And ofcourse now is prime time to fuck up, when it screws everyone involved.

I pick up my phone and dial Ignacio's number. He answers almost immediately. "Buenos noches, Conrad," he says cordially, "How can I be of service to you at this hour?"

It takes everything I have not to fly into a screaming fit. "Somebody fucked up bad amigo. One of your boys neglected to follow regulations, and now I cant help you guys."

"Dont worry, Im sure we can handle this one ourselves." He didnt sound the least bit concerned. I dont think he understands.

"Ignacio, I dont think you get it. The team your up against isnt a group of idiots. No, far from it. They wont just solve the case, they will solve the why, connect it to you and your boys, connect it to me. So I am worrying. I am worrying a whole fuckton!" There was a few moments of silence.

"I see," he said calmly, "Well Conrad, do you have any ideas or did you just call to scream at me?" If he was upset or worried he wasnt letting it show. I could hear him light something and slowly exhale.

"Yes, I do." My palms were starting to sweat. I tried to calm myself with a few deep breaths.

"And what, exactly, is your idea?" He sounded mildly irritated now.

"You're going to have to take out Sara Sidle and Catherine Willows."

Oh God, what have I done?

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That wasnt too bad. This definately wont be from Ecklies POV the whole time. Actually, next chapter will be 3rd person so... yea. Fun part is next. 


	2. Shattered

Claimer: I own the clothes on my back, my cat and gravity. Everything else belongs to Wal-Mart and Starbucks. Or Jerry Bruckheimer and CBS. Whatever.

Alright I suppose I should have explained some of this in the first chapter, but there will be no GSR here. Well, it will start out that way but it wont end that way. Thats for sure. I dont feel the need for a character death warning. People are gonna die, but its nobody important.

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**Chapter 2 Shattered**

The Las Vegas Crime Lab is bustling with activity, with spring coming into full bloom the psychos, sickos and tourists are taking full advantage of the good weather. In the team breakroom, CSIs Warrick Brown and Nick Stokes are biding their time with a few good rounds of arm wrestling, for money ofcourse. Sara Sidle and Greg Sanders are talking animatedly by the coffee pot, as Catherine Willows enters the room and sits down on the couch to a magazine. She flips through a couple pages, looking for a good article, while waiting for the boss, Gil Grissom, to come hand out assignments.

"Sometimes I wonder if you even know what DNA stands for," Sara said.

"Of course I do!" He said with mock hurt. "National Dyslexia Association."

Sara stopped, her coffee cup half way to her mouth. Catherine looked up at them, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Oh, come on! Thats not fair. I dont use my left hand as much as you do." Nick whined.

"You're just sore that I put you out 75 bucks, Nick." Warrick grinned at him. "I'll give you a shot to earn it back, 75 that you can't beat Sara."

Nick laughed. "I'll double it, that Greg can't beat Sara."

Greg frowned over at them. "I'm afraid I am above your childish games, boys," he said airily, "besides I wouldnt want to hurt dear dainty Sara with all my rippling man muscles."

Sara choked back a laugh, as Catherine displayed a full fledged grin at their antics. Warrick didn't hold back his laughter as Sara kicked him in the shin.

"200 Greg is too scared to take her on." Warrick managed to say between chuckles. Nick agreed, and laughed aswell.

Greg continued to pout as Grissom entered into the room, reading the assignment slips.

"Alright guys, we've got a busy night. Nick, Warrick, you've got the liquor store robbery. Catherine, Sara, you have a homocide. Keep an officer close by, you'll be in a bad neighborhood. Greg, your with me."

He looks up when no one moves. Wondering what they are all distracted by, he turns around to meet Ecklie, looking mighty pleased with himself. Ecklie sneers at the rest of the team before addressing Grissom.

"Gil, I need to speak with you. Can you meet me in my office in 10 minutes please?" He states more than asks.

"Can I know what this is about?" Grissom says, annoyed.

"Just meet me in my office. 10 minutes okay?" Ecklie turns around and leaves.

Grissom looks at Sara, who just shrugs and walks forward to take the slip from him. She looks back to wait for Catherine to follow.

"I'll drive." She states as she passes Sara.

"Fine, but Im driving back." Sara calls after her.

As they leave, Grissom hands Warrick the assignment slip and walks out to see what on earth Ecklie could want to talk about. Nick glances over at Greg, who is white as a sheet.

"Hey, Greggo. You alright man? You look like you've seen a ghost. If its this big of a deal, you dont have to arm wrestle Sara you know." Nick put his hand on Gregs shoulder. Greg just shook his head and took a deep breath.

"Ugh. Oh. Sorry I just had a really bad feeling." He went to take a sip of his now cold coffee.

"A bad feeling, got you lookin so spooked?" Warrick asked, brow raised.

"Yea," he gasped, "It felt like.."

"Like what?" Nick pressed.

"Like, when Cath and Sara left," he paused, "It felt like the last time I was gonna see them."

"Sounds like someone needs to stop burning Papa Olafs special incense." Nick joked. Greg just shook his head and walked out of the room. Warrick looked at Nick, who just shrugged and they left for their crime scene.

* * *

"..on their way to the scene. Uh-huh. Yea. Look, whatever I don't care. Just do it. Fine! I don't want to know how, just do it!" Ecklie said almost desperately before slamming the phone down. He looked up to see Grissom standing in behind one of the chairs in his office. 

"Ever heard of knocking Gil?" Ecklie snapped.

"Your door was open. Look Conrad, Ive got two bodies waiting for me in the desert, so if you do not mind getting to the point?"

"What? Oh. Uh yeah. Are you finished with those employee evaluation forms?"

"The ones that arent due for another month? Of course not. Was that all?" Grissom looked at Ecklie, puzzled.

"Yes. You're dissmissed. Now go. Those bodies aren't going to get any fresher." Ecklie shooed Grissom from his office. Once Grissom had gone, Ecklie shut office door and sank in chair. As he prayed to God those incompetent fools didn't fail.

* * *

Cathrine and Sara pulled up to a taped off check cashing building. They exited the car, grabbed their kits and went to speak with the on-scene officer, who seemed to busy talking on his cellphone. 

"Excuse me, sir?" Sara alerted the officer of their presence.

"Gotta go. Si, they're here." The officer said quickly, almost whispering before snapping the phone shut. He turned to them, not quite able to reach their eyes, and introduced himself as Officer Torres.

"Well, Torres, I hope we didn't interrupt an important call. So can you give us a rundown of what happend here?" Catherine says, flashing him a smile.

"Oh, sure. Your dead guy here, attempted to rob this cash vendor. The cashier had a pistol under the counter, waited until the robber was distracted and popped him one in the head. The ME is inside waiting for you." Torres spoke, all the while staring past them.

"Alright, where is the cashier who fired the gun?" Sara asked. Torres pointed to the direction of his cop car. Sara nodded at Catherine and went off toward the cop car, as Catherine entered the building. She met David inside standing over the body of the robber.

"What do you got for me David?"

"Male, Latino, looks like hes about 26 or 27. No wallet, no I.D. Uh, apparent GSW to the head. Nice shot. Hes been dead less than two hours." David stands up, preparing to leave.

"Theres something off about the blood spatter consistency. It looks like he wasn't facing the cashier when he was shot." Catherine thinks aloud. She began taking pictures of the body and the spatter.

"Hey, look I'm just supposed to tell you they're dead. And how long they've been that way. If I knew how it happend, you wouldn't have a job." David took the body and left, leaving Catherine to start processing the rest of the scene. She snapped more photos of the blood spatter. Then of the counter the cashier was working. She began to walk around the perimeter of the waiting area, looking for something else that might be a piece of the puzzle when Sara walked in. She went to set her kit down against the wall to take pictures, when a plant by the door snagged onto the kit.

"What the hell..." Catherine muttered.

"Huh?" Sara looked at her.

"Sara take a picture of that plant. And then move it." Sara did as she asked and revealed a bullet hole.

"I think our cashier failed to mention that to the officer." Catherine said dryly.

"Yeah, maybe if she was the one who actually shot him." Catherine shot Sara a puzzled look. "Her hands came up negative for GSR. I think we are being played."

"It would seem so. I bagged the robbers gun. If he even is a robber. See if you can get the bullet out of there, we'll see if Bobby can match it to one of these guns. And we'll tests the vics clothes for GSR back at the lab." Sara nodded and proceeded to extract the bullet from the wall.

"So, Cath what do you think actually happend here?" Sara asked as she put the bullet in an evidence bag.

"Well, I know the cashier didn't shoot him. Which would explain why the blood spatter doesn't match up with where she would have been standing. My best guess is that, we're are missing the second gunman. And I'd bet the pistol we got from the cashier doesn't match the bullet in our DBs head."

Catherine and Sara finished processing and collecting evidence in silence, both of them wondering why the cashier would lie if she hadn't shot the man. When they had finished, they waved to Officer Torres who was back on his phone. Catherine rolled her eyes and placed the kits and evidence in the back of the truck as Sara climbed into the drivers seat and started the car. They started the drive back to the lab, making conversation about Grissoms latest experiements, and the rediculous rumors that flew about the lab, determined not to try and wrap their heads around this mysterious case until the evidence had been further processed. But it seemed as though that would take awhile, since Sara had somehow gotten lost in this unfamiliar and dangerous part of town.

"Christ, Sara. Were you not paying attention on the way here?" Catherine joked. And then, "Shit, look out!" Catherine yelled at Sara, as a man had run infront of their vehicle causing Sara to slam on the brakes. Before either one of them could figure out where the man had come from there was a sound of glass shattering, and the unmistakable roar of a fire. Catherine turned out to see the back of the truck on fire, along with all the evidence. Before she could speak, she heard Sara scream right before something plowed into the driver side of the car, tipping it over. Catherines head hit the window hard, knocking her unconscious as the fire spread from the back of the truck. Sara dazed and in pain worked quickly, released her own belt and then Catherines. She took her gun out of her holster and fired a few rounds into the windshield, before breaking it out with her less damaged leg. She grabbed Catherine and dragged her from the flaming vehicle. She couldn't stand, and had alot of trouble dragging Catherine away from the truck. Before long, she couldn't drag her any further and proceeded to radio for help.

"Dispatcher, this is CSI Sidle. We've been in a hit and run, someone set our truck on fire. We need paramedics, quickly. Ah, shit. We are located.." But the dispatcher heard no more over the sound the truck blowing up.

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Haha yea I did it. I wasnt sure I was gonna finish this before I fell asleep. Oops. I blew up the truck. So much better than the shooting injuries. Looks like its in full swing now. Whatever. Enjoy. 


	3. What The Hell?

Disclaimer: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation is produced and owned by Mr. Bruckheimer.

Thanks for the reviews, I wasnt expecting any since I didnt ask. As far as the possibility of a C/S relationship, the story was originally intended to be that way. However, as the idea developed I wasnt sure if it would hurt the integrity of the story. Thats a judgement call for later. If it does turn out that way, I will place adequate warnings. If theres no warning, then theres no relationship.

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**Chapter 3 - What The Hell?**

"Hey Greg. Have you seen Nick?" Warrick had just left the breakroom when he passed his fellow co-worker.

"Yea, he's with Archie. You haven't seen the boss around lately have you?" Greg looked as if he had been running all over the lab, judging by the light prespiration on his forehead.

"Not since he left to the desert with you. Why?" Warrick didn't want to admit that something felt off since Ecklie had made his unwanted appearance earlier. But if Grissom is missing, he couldn't help but worry.

"He took a call out in the desert. And when he hung up, he just took off."

"Did he say anything?" Greg let out a shaky breath.

"I didn't hear much. Something like 'I'm on my way now. No that won't be necessary.' I've never seen him so freaked before. I didn't think it was even possible," he shifted his weight as if he was uncomfortable standing still. "I'm gonna go check his office again. Let me know if you see him." And with that he walked off.

"What the hell is going on tonight?" Warrick said to no one as he headed for the A/V lab. He stood in the doorway as Nick played, and replayed the security video from the store, not at all surprised Archie had left. "You find anything interesting?" Nick enlarged and enhanced what looked like a tatoo on the robbers arm.

"Yeah it looks like our suspect has initials tatooed on his arm. M.T.C." He said not turning from the screen.

"That matches one of the prints we pulled off the counter. Michael Tyler Cinder. Arrested a couple of years ago when he was pulled over for reckless driving. The officer wanted him to do a sobriety test, and the guy flipped out and attacked him." Warrick handed him the printout.

"Angry drunk?" Nick asked while reading the paper.

"No. This guy was tweaked. Hopped up on cocain. Got out about a month ago." Nick stood up.

"Well, lets go get Brass. Bring the guy in, wrap this up." He started for the door then stopped and looked at Warrick. "Hey man, are you cool?"

"Yeah, I was just thinking." About how I can't wait for this shift to be over, he thought.

" 'Bout what Greg said earlier? He says weird stuff all the time. I'm sure the girls are fine. They can take care of themselves." Nick put his hand on Warricks shoulder. Warrick just shook his head.

"You're right. Lets get this done." They left the lab in silence, too preoccupied to carry a conversation.

* * *

Grissom sat in a very uncomfortable chair, next to a teary eyed and sniffling blonde. He wasn't sure what to think, what to feel. He had no idea what to say. There were no words to console Catherines sister. He felt guilty. He gave them that assignment. Sent them to that area. And now they might be dead. Sara could die. He couldn't think. He stood up and began pacing. He still couldn't think. He could feel himself getting frustrated when someone grabbed his shoulder. He turned around to face the blonde. 

"Nancy, I.." Words still failed him. Good thing she shushed him. After a few awkward moments she broke the silence.

"She made plans with Lindsey this weekend," she spoke very quietly, "I haven't told her. As soon as I got the call I had a neighbor come over in case they woke up. I didn't see the point in upsetting her or Jeremy. Because she's going to make, Gil. They both are. We all know the risks to this job. And you couldn't have known this was going to happen. You can't beat yourself up about this, Sara will need you to be strong. They all will."

"How did you know about Sara and I?" He would rather talk about that than the other option.

"Educated guess. Most people don't put their boss down as their emergency contact, and judging by the lack of a crowd you haven't told the others yet. When a loved one is injured, its overwhelming, blinding. The thought to tell them probably hasn't even crossed your mind yet, has it?" She looked into his eyes, only to have him avoid her gaze.

"You are very observant. Excuse me, I have to make a phone call." With that he walked away to go stand outside. He took a deep breath and dialed the number for Captain Brass.

"Hello, Jim? It's Gil. Look, I have some bad news..."

* * *

"What? What happend? Wait, how long ago? Nevermind that. Where are you? I'll be there in 15 minutes. Warrick and Nick will be with me." Jim went to walk back into the interrogation room. He leaned against the door and put his head down. His chest hurt, his stomach was upset and he was dizzy. He took a deep breath an opened the door. 

"Mr. Cinder, I would just like to make a few things very clear to you. We have you on tape, robbing the store. We have your prints, from where you placed your hand on the counter to grab the cash from the drawer. You can confess or contest it in court. We'll give you a few moments to think it over. Would you two mind stepping outside with me please?" He spoke that last part to Warrick and Nick. They did as Brass asked, both looking very confused.

"What was up with that man? What's going on?" Warrick nearly snapped, frustrated by everyones odd behavior.

"Gil just called me. He's at the hospital. It would seem Catherine and Sara have been in some sort of accident. I told him we would meet him over there. This is an open/shut case. Someone else can take over from here. But we should go now. He doesn't sound good at all." Nick and Warrick just stood there stunned. They had no idea how bad the accident was. Just that Grissom had been gone for a couple of hours and no one had any more news than just that there had been an accident. They began walking quickly towards the parking lot when Nick stopped.

"Shit! Greg! He's still around the lab looking for Grissom. I'll go and pick him up, we'll meet you two at the hospital." And with that Nick took off at a jog towards the car, hoping that finding Greg wouldn't take too much time.

* * *

Sara jerked awake in her bed. She stared around her room attempting to get her bearings. She felt extremely groggy and tried to remember what had happend last night, or when she had gotten home. She drew a blank as she crawled out of bed. In what felt like no time, she was dressed and at work. She walked through the lab hardly noticing that the walls and voices of other people were distorted and out of focus. She walked into the break room where she saw the boys laughing and joking around, but she couldn't understand anything they were saying. She went to get a cup of coffee hoping to clear away the fog when the room melted away into screams and flames. She shut her eyes and thought this must be a dream. It's just a dream, it'll go away soon. When she opened her eyes, she found herself in a room set up much like a movie theatre. She sat down in one of the chairs as the screen came to life with a view of her and Greg standing in a backyard decorated with balloons and streamers with a dozen small children running around playing. She sat back and watched the fond memory play out. 

"What the hell?" Sara spun around quickly to find the source of the voice. Only to see Catherine staring up at the screen in awe. She saw Greg dressed up something like a rag doll, dancing in the most rediculous fashion, while Sara, dressed as a more different doll, singing while standing on a rotating platform.

"Sara? Where the hell are we?" Catherine took turns looking at Sara and the screen, wondering if it were actually the same person.

"I don't know. I never really named it. Then again, I've never seen anyone else here before. You might as well as come sit down." Catherine did as suggested and took a seat on Sara's right.

"You mean you've been here before? And what the hell are you doing up there?" Before Sara had a chance to answer the screen flashed and began to display a completely different picture.

_Sara stood in the locker room, staring down with disbelief at Greg._

_"Please, please, please, please! I'm on my knees, begging you." He clasped his hands up at her and pouted for added effect._

_"Have you gone completely insane? I don't even know this guy, let alone his friends, and you want me to do a whole song and dance routine for his kid's birthday party, a routine I don't even know, in two weeks? You must be insane, because that's crazy talk." Sara sat down on the bench before looking at Greg, who was still on the floor._

_"Dammit, I'm fucking desperate here. I did have this whole thing planned out with Julie, but we broke up three days ago. She won't even talk to me, I highly doubt she will go to the party with me. Besides, it won't be that hard to learn and I'm sure you've seen Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. Come on, Sara. Please. I promised I'd be there." Greg stared at the floor, waiting for another rejection._

_"If I do this for you," She started, Greg looked up at her full of hope, "**If** I do this for you, you are going to owe me big time. Like a months worth of breakfast, big time." Greg nearly tackled her off the bench with a crushing hug._

_  
_"I guess the kid was a huge fan of Dick Van Dyke, it was weird. The year before, for her birthday, they did a whole Mary Poppins thing. It turned out alright, I had a good time." Sara explained to Catherine, who was trying desperately not to laugh, and failing.

"What's so funny? I'm not the song and dance type?" Sara asked, slightly annoyed.

"No, it's not that. Although, that by itself is kind of amusing you have to admit. But do you always replay memories this way?"

"Yeah, sometimes. It helps me get a more objective perspective, it can come in handy with some tough cases." Sara grinned at her.

"Only you would work even in your sleep, Sara Sidle." Catherine returned the grin. Suddenly the screen flashed again. This time it showed the two of them sitting in an SUV. No sound could be heard. They watched as a man ran out infront of the truck and Sara slammed on the brakes. They watched as Catherine looked over at Sara and then at the back of the truck, now on fire. They watched as Sara's mouth opened in a silent scream just before the truck was rammed and tipped onto its side.

"Cath? You're bleeding" Sara stared at the side of Catherines head as blood gathered and dripped down the side of her face.

"So are you." Catherine pointed to several cuts on Sara's face and arm. It was then that Sara remembered what had happend. The car accident, the explosion. The last sound she heard was Catherine shrieking in horror as she watched the explosion happen on the screen. Then everything went black.

* * *

Well. That was different. Sorry the update took awhile. Once again, sorry for any errors. This is about as good as my uneducated writing style gets. Next chapter should be up by the weekend. If not before then. 


	4. Give Me Justice

Disclaimer : I dont own it. Do not want.

You guys are fantastic. Really, you are. Not not not gsr. Im about to put that under the summary. Not gsr. There are maybe three gsr-esque moments and theres already been one. I dont know if its going to come up in this chapter or the next but I can not use the little enya thing. The squiggly that goes over the 'n' in pinata. I say cant but chances are Im not doing it right, but eventually Im going to get into words that need it, so if you would like to enlighten me that would be great. And now, after that fantastic run on sentence, heres the next chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 4 - Give Me Justice**

It was crowded in the waiting area. Six people sat with bated breath, longing to be atleast told what had happend, and if their loved ones were going to be okay. It had been nearly two hours since Gil had first recieved the call from the hospital. Each minute as agonizing as the next. With the mounting tension in the room, it was no surprise when everyone all but jumped out of their seats when a cell phone went off. Gil sighed as he flipped open his phone.

"Grissom."

"_What the hell were you thinking?_"

"Conrad-" Grissom was cut off as Ecklies voice grew louder.

"_Not only did you abandon your crime scene, but it seems as though you entire team has dissapeared from the lab!_" Greg turned to yell something into the phone, but Nick placed a hand on Gregs shoulder and shook his head.

"If you would just shut up!" Grissom snapped. "I'm at the hospital and as soon as I have any information I will come back to the lab and share with you," Grissom looked up as a doctor approached them, "But as of right now I have to go." As he hung up the phone he stood to greet the doctor.

"I'm Dr. Mitch Caldwell." Dr. Caldwell stuck out his hand, Grissom shook it.

"Hello, I am Dr. Gil Grissom. Could you please tell me what has happened to my colleagues?"

"Paramedics on the scene said their SUV was on its side and had apparently exploded. But judging by the lack of burns, your colleagues must not have been in the vehicle when it happend. Ms. Willows has suffered a deep laceration to the right side of her head, a severe concussion, several bruised ribs, a contusion on her jaw, and mild road rash. We stiched her up, gave her an ointment for the road rash, some antibiotics to fight infection, and a mild sedative so she would sleep through the night. Ms. Sidle, however, was not so lucky. She sustained massive bruising to the left side of her body. Her spleen ruptured and her hip was dislocated. That was all from the initial impact from to the vehicle. It seemed Ms. Sidle shielded Ms. Willows from debris from the explosion with her own body. The impact from the debris caused alot of bruising on Ms. Sidle's back, some very close to the spinal column. But we are more concerned with damaged suffered to her head. We cannot be certain of any brain damage or even paralysis at this time. We've called in a neurologist to run some tests. However, it will be quite some time before either one of them wake up. You all might be better off just going home and getting some rest."

"Sure thing Doctor. Please inform me of any changes," Grissom turned and looked at his boys, a mixture of relief and fear on their faces. Dr. Caldwell nodded to the rest of the group and dissapeared behind swinging doors.

"Hey Nancy, you should probably get on back to Lindsey." Warrick spoke softly and gave her a gentle hug before waving good bye.

"Griss, what are we supposed to do now?" Greg sounded like a lost boy. Grissom looked how Greg sounded.

"You, Nick and Warrick have a crime scene to process. I want you to find out exactly what happend tonight. I'm going to go make sure Ecklie knows that this is our case. And don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

"Gil, I don't know if this is smart approach to this situation like," Brass was cut off when Grissom rounded on him.

"Jim, you know as well as I do that there is no better CSI's in Las Vegas than the ones I have on my team. I cannot take back the events that landed them here, but I will not do them the injustice of a second rate investigation. Now please, escort them to the crash site. We've already lost a few hours on this." With that Grissom turned and left the hospital. Nick and Greg just shrugged as Warrick gestured for Brass to lead the way.

* * *

"Oh really? Uh-huh. Well make sure you do something with the car. I dont know. Strip it, set it on fire, put it at the bottom of Lake Mead for all I care. Just get rid of it. I'll keep you posted." Ecklie hung up his phone and spun around in his chair to face Gil Grissom. 

"Knocking really isnt your strong suit is it, Gil?" Ecklie sneered, attempting to cover up his surprise that Grissom might have overheard that highly incriminating phone call.

"Neither is shutting your door." Grissom stared him down in silence.

"Where the hell have you been?"

"At the hospital. Two of my CSI's were injured in an accident." Ecklie supressed a smirk at this.

"And that constitutes you leaving a crime scene in the hands of a rookie?"

"Greg is a very capable CSI. I'm sure he collected all the evidence at the scene. It was a dump job so there wasn't a whole lot to begin with." Grissom broke eye contact long enough to have a seat in one of the chairs.

"But not capable enough to process it? No instead he ran around like a chicken with his head cut off looking for you." Ecklie didn't try to hide his smirk.

"It matters not, Conrad. I need you to hand off that case to Day Shift anyhow." Grissom looked at him intently, getting ready for what he knew was going to be a very difficult argument followed quickly by a headache.

"And why the hell should I feel the need to," Ecklie was interrupted by the less than friendly entrance of the day shift supervisor, Carl Trode.

"Does someone want to explain why my CSI's were sent home from a scene? By your team, no less." He said this while pointing at Grissom.

"Excuse me! Gil, is this true? Did you know about this?" Ecklie looked as pissed as Trode sounded.

"It was my order Conrad. I'm taking this case, whether you like it or not. And if you want to contest it, I will gladly take it to the director himself," Grissom turned to Trode,"And your team can work the body dump from the desert. I'm sure Dr. Robbins is finished with the autopsy by now and Greg has brought all the evidence back to the lab. Work is almost done for you. Now, if you don't mind. I'm going to go help my boys process our scene." Grissom exited the office before anyone could object.

After he left, Trode turn to Ecklie, "Can he just fucking do that?"

"It would seem, that he just did." Ecklie fumed.

* * *

Catherine wasn't sure of anything anymore. She didn't know how she had gotten to this place from the empty movie theatre. She didn't know how she had gotten to the movie theatre, or if the events of the screen were real. She didn't know why she was here, or why she couldn't open the door to leave this place. She did know that she missed her daughter. And that every book and magazine in the place were all filled with blank pages. She glanced over at the sofa, where she had previously hoisted an unconscious Sara onto its cushions. She sighed and sank down to the floor, her back against the wall. She wished desperately for something to do. Movement caught her eye, and she looked over to see a blue rubber ball rolling down the hallway in her direction. It stopped when it hit her leg. Cautious and confused, she slowly reached out to pick up the ball, in case if grew fangs and tried to bite her hand off. She squeezed it gently in her hand, then tossed it in the air a few times just to make sure it wouldn't detonate. Well, it is certainly better than nothing, she thought. She threw the ball at the door. It bounced off and arced back towards her, she leaned out to catch it. 

Since there are no time telling devices, Catherine was unsure of how much time had passed. But it felt like forever before Sara had stired into consciousness again. Sara slowly opened her eyes to take in her surroundings. She quickly realized that she was not alone by a rhythmic thumping sound.

"Cath? What are you doing here? What's that sound?" Sara said groggily, sitting up for a better view.

"Welcome back to the land of the living. It's this ball I found. I've just been tossing it at the door, since theres nothing else to do around here," Catherine said without stopping her ball bouncing.

"I take slight offense to that. Theres plenty to read around here. Besides if you don't cut that out soon, you're liable to piss off my neighbors." Sara yawned and stretched and sat back down on the couch.

Catherine snorted, "Yea plenty to read, sure. With all the words that are there. Very entertaining, I'm sure." She stood up and grabbed a magazine, tossing it onto Sara's lap.

Sara's face turned from one of amusement to confusion with each blank page she turned. "What the fuck?" She trailed off, flipped the magazine to the cover, only to find it blank, something she had previously overlooked. I must still be dreaming, she thought.

"So, if my ball bouncing is going to piss off your neighbors, this must be your apartment then" Catherine said more to herself.

"Ding ding. 10 points for Captain Obvious." Sara said dryly. Catherine turned to her, with a serious look.

"Sara, what are we doing here?" Sara grinned inspite of Catherine's tone.

"Well, I dunno about you, but I live here dear." Catherine took a seat on the sofa, staring at her hands.

"But how did we get here? Did that explosion really happen?" Catherine looked up at Sara, only to have her turn away, eyes glistening.

Catherine jumped up and started pacing, "So what? Are we dead?"

"I'm not dead." Catherine stopped pacing and stared at the other woman.

"What are you saying?"

Sara looked at Catherine with wet eyes, "I'm not dead. But I think you are. Catherine, I think I killed you." Then she started to cry.

* * *

Many apologies on the time it took to finish this. For all intents and purposes, the day shift supervisors name is now Carl Trode. Appointed by Ecklie. So pretty much, its still Ecklie. The sequences between Catherine and Sara may seem confusing, but its a dream world. Catherine has never been inside Saras apartment, therefore she would not know thats where she is, and would not know whats in the books or magazines. And altho Sara should know whats in the magazine, having Catherine in her dream world has altered it. But Sara doesnt know that because she thinks Cath is dead. Whatever, I have a whole plan for that, hopefully I don't make it to confusing before it becomes clear. Anyway, if anyone could shed some light on my enya 'squiggly' problem it would be greatly appreciated.

Next Chapter : Catherine wakes up! I think. No she does. Ecklie becomes a bigger douche. GSR almost completely ends. And Hodges says something meaningful? I guess so, I dont have control over this story. o.O

Lend some Love if you'd Like.


	5. Cracking

Disclaimer: I dont even own the computer with which I am updating this.

Okay, first. I would like to apologize for the amount of time it took to get this chapter up. I know its been months. And to be quite honest I completely forgot in what direction this story is going in so it may take awhile before I get back in a groove. I got called away on family emergency two days after that last update and Ive had a lot of shit to deal with since then. So if this chapter seems rocky and doesnt quite fit thats the reason. Its like drawing a circle and stopping halfway and then re-starting. It never looks right.

Okay, here we go.

* * *

**Chapter 5 - Cracking**

Processing a scene had never been more painful for these men. Greg had started to collect trace but had to stop due to the fact that he was now openly crying. Captain Brass had handed Greg what remained of the evidence Sara and Catherine had collected and sent him back to the lab to sort through it and see if there was something that wasn't damaged in the explosion. Warrick was placing markers and taking pictures, but otherwise remained stoic. Nick was sketching the scene in total silence, save for a few sniffles.

When Gil arrived, Captain Brass quickly pulled him aside, a worried expression etched on his face. He locked eyes with his colleague and it was plain to see how badly this situation was affecting his friend. "Gil, we need to talk."

"Jim, not now. I have to process this evidence." Grissom attempted to sidestep the detective, but Brass had other ideas and pinned Grissom to the car.

"No, look we are going to talk now. Dammit, Grissom, Nick and Rick have the scene under control. You know medics and the fire department were all over this place. You know theres not much to process that hasn't been compromised. What I need you to do right now is stop and take a deep breath. How are you holding up, buddy?" Grissom just sighed and looked every bit his old age. Haggard and stressed, he had no need to answer the question, Brass knew how he felt.

"I know this is tough on you right now. It's hard on all of us. But I'm going to be perfectly honest I don't think it would be such a good idea for you to jump headfirst into this case. There's not much here, and there's not much left over from the original crime scene. I sent Greg back to sort through it. Gil, this is already negatively affecting your not so stable relations with Ecklie. And judging by the look on the first shift supervisors face, he's not to happy with you right now either. I seriously think you need to take a second to think about what you are doing. This whole investigation, and all of us, are going to be under harsh scrutiny. You know how it works when a member of the team gets injured. We've been there before. Which only means every action we take is going to be picked apart even more. I just want you to be careful."

Grissom just sighed and shook his head. "I've been doing nothing but thinking. I can't stop thinking." With that he walked off, got in his car and drove away.

* * *

Ecklie stepped out on to the deck overlooking the pool. He looked pointedly at the man resting comfortably and waited for him to send away his gaurds before he spoke. 

"So, from what I can tell your men have succeeded." Ecklie said more as a question than a statement.

The Latino looked at him and chuckled. "They blew up their vehicle. You shouldn't have any more issues. Concerning the evidence from either case."

Ecklie closed his eyes in relief. "Thank you, Ignacio." Just then Ecklie's phone rang. He answered and his expression changed from one of relief to anger.

"What? Why did you let him in? Protocol? Look, nevermind. How long ago did he arrive? 15 minutes... What is he doing? Just pictures, are you sure? Okay keep a close eye on him, but don't be obvious about it. Call me back as soon as he leaves." Ecklie snapped the phone shut and put his head in his hands.

"Is there a problem Conrad?"

"Grissom just arrived at the cash vendor. But so far he seems to just be taking pictures."

"Is this something we should be concerned about?"

"I don't know yet. I hope not." With that Ecklie turned and left.

* * *

Catherine stirred in her bed. Even though she was awake, she didn't open her eyes. She thought about what Sara had said. She wondered if she was actually dead. She rolled her head to one side and immediately put it back. She knew she wasn't dead. Dead people can't feel pain. She opened her eyes, then shut them. Too bright. It smells odd, she thought. Sterile. Like a doctor's office or a ... 

"Hospital?" She said outloud. She heard a startled cry.

"Ms. Willows? Are you awake?" Catherine slowly opened one eye, and then the other. She eventually focused in on another person in the room, wearing scrubs.

"Am I in a hospital?" Catherine asked the woman.

"Yes, honey. Let me go get your doctor. He will be glad to know you're awake." With that the woman all but ran from the room to flag a doctor. Catherine closed her eyes again and wondered when she got here. Whether or not this was even real. She wondered where Sara was.

* * *

Grissom sat in his office, going over the crime scene photos and ballistics report from Catherine and Sara's case. He had next to nothing to work with, and was still waiting on the trace report from Hodges about the substance on the db's hands. His thoughts started to wander to how Sara was doing, but he quickly stopped himself. It would only lead to more guilt and more anger. He needed to focus. 

But life seemed adamant about not letting him focus. Grissom's thoughts were soon interrupted by a knock on his door. He called from them to enter.

"Wow, you look terrible boss."

"Hodges, do you have my report or did you come to waste me time?"

Hodges looked defensive at the comment. "No, I have your report. The substance was cocaine. But seeing as how there was no evidence of it in your dead guy's nose or lungs I don't think he was using. Maybe he just cuts it up and deals it?" He set the papers on Grissom's desk.

"Thank you Hodges." Gil picked up the papers to study the results.

"You know, no one blames you for what happend."

"I know Hodges."

"You've got the best damn team in the country. Second best lab. So this guy, this asshole that did this, he doesn't stand a chance. Because you're going to catch him. But you don't have to do it today. You don't have to over do it, you know." Hodges paused for a second. Grissom looked at him, waiting for him to continue.

"We're worried about you. All of us. Lab tech and CSI, alike. Catherine and Sara, they are gonna pull through. And together, you are going to catch this guy. But until then, maybe you should take a break. You haven't left your office in almost 2 days. I'm starting to wonder if you had a catheter put in. Just consider it, going home and taking a nap. Tackling this thing with a fresh head. No one is going to be pissed if you take a break."

Grissom just stared at Hodges. After a few moments of awkward silence and some fidgeting from Hodges, he turned around and left. Grissom thought about it and realized it was time for a break. Some food and a shower. He gathered the evidence and left the building.

* * *

Alright I think I'm back on track. Sorry about the horrificly long update time. And for any errors. Next update will be sooner than this last one. 


	6. Not one, but two

Disclaimer: Yar, I own it. Im just too neglectful to get anything other than supervised weekend visitation. (Obviously a joke, I dont want this to get deleted after everything Ive written)

The decision has been made. The story will not contain c/s. There it is. No gsr, no c/s, no snickers, no sandle, no grillows, no yobling, no other obscure relationship with creative title. I am in no way against any of those relationships, except maybe gsr, but I do believe that adding one would take away from the story. Speaking of which, thar she blows.

* * *

**Chapter 6 - Not one, but two.**

Grissom sat in the break room looking over the same evidence he had been for what felt like an eternity. Still, he had reached no other conclusion except that the db had not been shot by the cashier. Physically, he felt much better. He had taken a whole day off to, as Greg had put it, "Shit, shower and shave." Mentally, he had been given some relief to know that Catherine had woken up and was just fine aside from the head wound and the sore ribs. He hasn't been to see her yet, but he figured the boys would have been to see her yesterday and he wanted her to get some rest. He decided he would visit her today.

"Hey, Gil. Looking much better. Got a hit off the prints from your deceased." Grissom looked up at a slightly relieved looking Jim Brass.

"Come, sit. What do you have?" Grissom motioned to a chair that Brass soon occupied. He slid the papers across the table.

"Jonathan Ramirez, he was booked on assault charges and possesion of cocaine with intent to sell. He was convicted, took a plea, testified against another drug runner and was recently released on parole, which he obviously violated. But I'm honestly surprised he lived this long." Brass stomach growled as he checked his watch.

Grissom looked up from the papers, "Why do you say that?"

"Because the drug lord he testified against was a fellow Norteños gang member. They generally don't take to kindly to that sort of thing. Hey, are you hungry? Let's get some lunch, on me." Brass got to his feet and waited for Grissoms reply.

"Alright, what are we having?" Grissom followed Brass out of the break room and toward the car park.

"I was thinking some Mexican," Jim said with a grin.

* * *

Catherine gingerly sat up from the couch. Wondering why she had woken up so soon, she was reminded as someone began to knock on her door. Thinking it was her mother, she called out that it was unlocked. 

"Hey there, Cath. I know it's the middle of the day and everything but you should still keep your door locked." Catherine went over and gave a crushing hug to a very relieved Warrick. As she pulled out of it, she saw Nick and Greg huddled by the door.

"Hey guys, come on in. It's okay." Catherine waved them over to the livingroom where Warrick was already seated on the couch. Greg walked past her, taking in his surroundings and found refuge in an overstuffed armchair. Nick followed behind him with his head down, but he was stopped by Catherine.

"Hey Nicky." He looked up at her with already wet eyes.

"Hey. How are you doing?"

"Well, you know," she said pointing up to her head, "I've been better."

"Yeah," he sniffled. She pulled him into a hug.

"It's okay Nicky. Everything is going to be okay." He pulled back from the hug with a small smile.

"I missed you." She grinned at him.

"Well, I missed you too. I missed all of you. Everyone, except Ecklie." Catherine sat down on the couch again. This time, flanked by Warrick and Nick.

"Even Hodges?" Greg asked.

"In a small way." Catherine admitted. Greg made a face. Everyone laughed.

"Hey, Greg, what's in the bag?" Nick asked him.

"Oh, right. Doc Robbins made Catherine a pie. He asked me to give it to her." Greg handed the dish to Catherine. She exchanged a worried look with Warrick, who took the 'dessert' from her.

"I'm going to go put this in the kitchen." Warrick left for the kitchen, holding the dish away from him.

"So, how's are bossman?" Catherine looked back and forth between Greg and Nick, gauging their reactions.

"At first he was taking it very hard. Not eating, not sleeping, not leaving his office." Nick said without looking at her.

"Yeah, but word around the lab says that Hodges yelled at him until he agreed to leave for a day." Greg said chuckling.

"Well, good to know the lab gossip hasn't changed. Just as rediculous as ever." Catherine said, smiling.

"Look what I found roaming around the kitchen." Warrick returned with Lindsey at his side.

"Greggo!" She squealed and jumped into his lap.

"Hey hey, kid. We just came by to visit with your mum. I thought you would be at school." Greg whinced and adjusted himself so that the child wasn't crushing anything of vital importance.

"Nope, Mom let me stay home so we could spend some time together, but then she fell asleep." Lindsey pouted, oblivious to any pain she might have caused to Greg.

Everyone chuckled at their antics, until they were both pouting, and everyone laughed.

* * *

A couple hours had passed since Grissom first left with Brass to get some lunch. He figured now to be as good a time as any to see Catherine. When she answered the door, she looked worn out but happy to see him. 

"I was wondering when you were going to come by. The boys just left with Lindsey. Come on in, I'll put on a pot of coffee." Grissom followed her into the kitchen.

"I figured I would give you a day or two to rest and a chance for you to catch up with everyone else. I thought they would have stopped by yesterday." Grissom frown, then glanced over at the pie sitting on the counter. "Is that Doc Robbins pie?" He asked her.

"Uh, yeah. Do you want some?" He nodded and she pulled out a plate and a fork for him.

"Aren't you going to have any?" He asked while scooping out a slice.

"Not right now, thanks. How are you holding up?" She poured him a cup of coffee and handed it to him. He shrugged.

"Your case is rather confusing. Most of the evidence was destroyed. All I have to work with are pictures and trace from the body."

"What about the bullets?" She asked. He looked up at her in confusion.

"There was only one bullet. The one in the vics head. It didn't match the gun behind the counter. But the blood spatter told me that. And there was no other bullet found at the scene of the explosion." He suddenly looked very guilty and pushed his plate away.

"Gil. That accident was not your fault. We were in a bad area. We had gotten lost. And chances are we were just a random target, or maybe even the wrong target. There had been a recent upstart in gang activity in that area. Sara and I both knew that going in there. The accident was just that, an accident. No one is to blame." Grissom looked thoughtful for a moment, then changed subjects.

"Where was the other bullet found?"

"Do you remember that plant by the entrance? It was behind that. I would have missed it too, if Sara hadn't snagged the plant when she came in. I had her move the plant and take a picture." Catherine put her head in her hands and she tried to remember.

"She took the bullet out, bagged it then.." Catherine trailed off.

"Greg inventoried everything from the scene that might have been evidence. There was no bullet." Grissom said more to himself.

"She pocketed it! Gil, it's still in her damn pocket. Probably at the hospital with the rest of her clothes." Catherine smiled in spite of her self. It isn't exactly protocol to pocket evidence but in this case the mistake was a lucky break. Suddenly Grissom jumped up and ran out the front door.

"Gil, you don't have to go get it now" She called to him. She stood in the doorway, confused as to what he was getting out of the backseat. He grabbed a box and brought it inside.

"What? Why do you have her clothes? And why were they in your backseat?" Catherine asked, but Grissom ignored her and kept searching until he found what he was looking for. He held up the evidence bag with the bullet. He looked like a small child who had just found prize in the cereal box.

"Grissom!" He looked over at Catherine, clearly excited. Catherine pointed to the box, with a confused look on her face.

"The hospital gave it to me." He was still holding the box, but now Catherine noticed he was holding it rather protectively.

"I see. Have you been in to see her recently?" Grissom immediately looked more guilty than he did before.

"I can't." He whispered.

"She needs you Grissom. She needs you to be there for her." Catherine said sternly.

"I can't" He repeated a little louder this time. Catherine began to shuffle him towards the door.

"Go see her. Now. Show her support. Talk to her. Even if you think she can't hear you. Maybe she can. Maybe she'll come out of it." Catherine hugged him and shut the door. She walked over to the couch, all the excitement had completely drained her. Grissom stood on the porch, looking defeated. Both of them equally worried about their friend.

* * *

Alright, thats two chapters with no word from Sara. Many thanks to Black Tulip, the only reason why I didn't scrap the last chapter and completely give up on this story. Up next, the end of the gsr, thank god. Another dream sequence. Action will definately be picking back up. This chapter was mainly dialogue filler. But I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless.

Note: I will be using a few gang names here and there. These are real gangs. Some of them wont be where they geographically should be. Actually I think only one of them will. However, none of that is important, just exercising creative liscence. So don't get confused. This is, after all, a work of fiction. None of this shit is real.


	7. Let's Chat

Disclaimer: it aint mine. ñ

Thanks for all the reviews fellas. I really do appreciate it. Since the season opener has finally been aired, I would just like to say that it in no way affects the aspects of this story. Also I apologize for the long update, I am suffering from an extremely unpleasant shoulder injury.

* * *

**Chapeter 7 - Let's chat.**

Grissom stood in the hallway, leaning up against the doorframe. He stared at the unconscious body of Sara Sidle. Even while sleeping she looked uncomfortable in the hospital bed. Tubes and wires seem to come from various body parts at random. Numbers on various machines had no meaning, just gave rise to a slighty off beat symphony of beeps and alarms. Grissom had felt like he was suffocating and he wasn't even in the room. Herds of doctors and nurses made their way through the hall, making rounds or en route to some unknown destination, all of them seeming oblivious of his presence. He sighed defeatedly and wondered when he had started to care when he was alone. He was vulnerable and lonely and he knew that this came from letting her in to his life. The more he thought about how much better he would be handling this had she not been so involved as part of his daily life, the more angry he got. Mostly at himself. He made the conscious decision to open himself to weakness. A weakness that has thus distracted him from his work, when it was necessary that he be at his best. He turned away from the room and joined the stream of mobile people, his destination unknown.

* * *

Sara jumped at the feel of the chair underneath her. All remenants of the terrible scene she just left were now gone. She stood on shaky legs and began to warily inspect her new surroundings. She recognized nothing and became more confused when she couldn't read the titles of any books or records in the room. She turned around and gazed over at the chair she had just been occupying. She looked beyond into what seemed to be a foyer and part of the kitchen. Minimal light shone into the room through closed curtains, beneath the window was a couch. On that couch was the sleeping body of..

"Catherine?" Sara whispered aloud. The body stirred at the sound of the noise. Sara released a breath she wasn't aware she was holding. She knelt beside the sleeping figure, gently placing her hand on Catherine's back. Sara was relieved to find the body to be warm. She called out to sleeping blonde once again, more firmly this time.

"Huh? Linds? You home already?" Catherine's voice was muffled by the couch pillows. The absence of the non-stop chattering from the youth aroused her curiousity enough to flip gingerly on to her back. She was surprised by the lack of pain but even more startled to see Sara kneeling beside her. Catherine sat up quickly, nearly knocking Sara on her back.

"Hey there, Sleeping Beauty. Why so jumpy?" Sara said, regaining her balance. She smirked inspite of herself, glad to not be haunted by a zombie-like, ghastly and decaying Catherine. She briefly wondered if that would be worse than what she had just escaped from. Her lips stretched into a thin smile as she tried not to dwell on the thought.

"When.. How.. Why? You're here?" Catherine managed to get out. Sara let out a soft chuckle and returned to her chair.

"For now it appears that way. This must be what I think the inside of your house must look like. It's very nice." Catherine didn't seem to hear the statement, her mind still seemed to be clouded from sleep. But she quickly found her voice.

"How did you get here? When were you released? Have you been to see Gil yet?" Catherine quickly shut her mouth, she didn't want to interrogate Sara so soon after being released. However, something seemed to be off about this, but she was still too sleepy to understand.

"Grissom? I wasn't aware that I was being held captive. I don't know how I got here. One minute I'm," she paused, "Somewhere else. Next thing I know, I'm sitting right here in this chair." She trembled slighty at remembering where she had been previously.

"Are you alright?" Sara's shaking had not gone unnoticed by Catherine.

"I'm fine." Sara sat there with her eyes closed, afriad to open to what she may find. A dead Catherine. Or worse.

"You don't look fine." Catherine's face had dissapointment written all over her face. She had thought Sara was finally awake.

"Sure I am. Fanatical, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional, FINE." Sara heard the other woman chuckle dryly. The proceeding silence removed all desire for Sara to open her eyes. Her mind raced with all the scenarios she could open her eyes to. The only thing that stopped her from bolting blindly from the room was the chair she was sitting in. Logically, in her mind, a truely terrifying nightmare would not allow her to sit in such comfort.

"Hm." Catherine grunted, deep in thought. Sara slowly looked over at her.

"What?" The question has snapped Catherine from the recesses of her mind and back to this psuedo-reality.

"I was trying to figure out why you are here. The last thought I had before falling asleep was just wanted to talk to you." Sara absorbed the information, and let her train of thought take off. But the train quickly hit a wall. Catherine is dead. Sara suddenly felt very uncomfortable sitting still, and began to walk around the room.

"You're starting to make me dizzy, Sara Sidle." Sara stopped, and looked at Catherine. Frustration clearly present in her features.

"You're dead Catherine. I watched you die. Th-the accident." Sara trailed off. Catherine slowly approached her until she stood squarly infront Sara.

"I'm alive, Sara. We both are." Sara violently shook her head, clenching her jaw.

"I saw you die. You're dead, you're dead." Sara's voice was thick with emotion, but her defiance quickly frustrated Catherine.

"Will you just listen to me?! Yes, we were both in an accident. But no one died! I saw you myself before I left the hospital. You were hurt bad, Sara. You're still unconcious. But you are alive. I'm still alive!" Catherine's outburst stunned Sara into silence. Catherine could feel her heart beating and her face flush. She grabbed Sara's hand and placed it on her cheek.

"You see? Warmth," Catherine then moved her hand to her chest, "You feel that? My heart beats, Sara. I'm alive. You need to let that go, you have to wake up." Catherine released Sara's hand, which slowly returned to her side. She heard everything Catherine had said. She felt the warmth, the blood pumping from her chest. She wanted to believe. If Catherine wasn't dead, then she was unconcious, holed up in a hospital somewhere. Sara felt dizzy. And that strange wind sound wasn't helping.

"Do you hear that?" Sara asked, returning her gaze to Catherine. The sound persisted and grew louder. An invisible hand places a lock of Catherine's hair behind her ear. Then the sound, louder now.

* * *

"Mommy?" The normally high pitched voice of the little girl had risen a few octaves from fear. 

"Baby?" Catherine mumbled. Her head throbbed, her side ached, and the new attachment of Lindsey wasn't helping. But she bit the bullet and slowly sat up.

"Wait, Mom. Let me get you some water." Catherine made a small nod as Lindsey ran into the kitchen to get some water. She handed the cup to Catherine, who gulped it down quickly, unaware of how thirsty she had been.

"How was your day with Uncle Greggo?" Lindsey seemed to be re-energized at remembering the events of the day.

"He's sooo cool. I had so much fun. Don't worry about dinner, Mom. I brought you back some tacos." Lindsey retrieved the luke-warm dinner from the kitchen and brought it to her mother. She plopped down in the chair and turned on the tv as Catherine quickly ate her food. They sat in silence for a few hours, neither one of them paying attention to whatever program was on.

* * *

Ecklie snapped his phone shut and began to rub his temples. Ignacio glanced at him over a bottle of Corona. He had a feeling more bad news was on the horizon. He was acutely aware of how angry Conrad was at the failure to dispatch the female CSIs. However, he was delighted to hear that most of the evidence had been destroyed, and the others were likely unusable. And the befuddlement of the 'Bug-lover', as Con referred to him, due to the momentary loss of his leading ladies and crucial evidence, had bought him some more time. Ecklie's jaw tightened, and Ignacio braced for the news. 

"They identified the dead guy." Ignacio waited patiently for him to continue.

"John Ramirez sound familiar to you at all?" Ecklie seemed to get angrier by the second.

"I do believe so. He was involved in a few hits for me." Ignacio lit and puffed on a cigar.

"Yeah. Which turned into a few cases for me. A few shakily unsolved cases. With my name on them." Ecklie's eyes burned, each word filled to the brim with contempt.

"What would you have me do amigo? He was sloppy, no? That's why I had him killed. Besides, his old buddies figured out where he was hiding. He was a huge liability to us. He turned traitor once, I wouldn't doubt that he would do it again to win their forgiveness. I did him a favor. After using him for information against us, they would have killed him anyway." Ignacio continued to puff and sip, seemingly not bothered by the situation. Ecklie boiled inside, but had to curb his rapier tounge at the presence of a stranger.

"Iggy!" The young black strutted up to Ignacio and slapped his hand around for a little bit before pulling him into a half hug. He locked eyes with Ecklie, who gazed back with equal disgust.

"Who's the stiff in the suit?" The man never broke eye contact with Ecklie. Ignacio laughed at their behavior.

"That's Conrad. Con, this is Christopher." Ignacio lazily waved his hand in introduction, then offered Christopher a seat.

"Come on, G. I told you to call me Crazy D." Crazy D seemed slightly embarrassed at being called his given name and vainly tried to cover it up.

"And what could that D stand for? Delinquent? Degenerate?" Ecklie smirked at the boy.

"You old bitch! I'll fucking shoot you dead right now!" Crazy D screamed at him as he pulled his gun out. Ignacio abruptly stood up.

"That would not be wise, Chris. Conrad is a great asset to me. Actually, Con is the reason why I have asked you here today. You see, my boys have left some rather nasty unfinished business to tend to. Business that could get Conrad and I in a lot of trouble. So I am in need of your services."

* * *

There might be more errors in this one than normal. The rest of this story should come up rather quickly. Not that I'm rushing it, but I refuse to write two stories at a time. I'm thinking massive Songfic Spoof. In the form of a CSI: Rockpra. A Rock Opera. Or basically a musical using contemporary music. In classic c/s format. Well I suppose it would be a spoof of c/s fics too. Since I feel like I robbed some people in this one. I feel robbed myself actually. 

Coming up: Good Morning! See that? That's your lead floating away. Santa's Unlikely Helper. Deadly Alliances. Big war. And a minor whoopsie.


	8. FightOrFlight

Disclaimer: it aint mine. ñ

So basically I had a feeling that I had more mistakes in the last chapter than normal. I didn't realize how many until I went back and looked it over. I feel like an ass but I cant go back and change it because I will end up altering the whole chapter. Here's this one. Wouldn't let me fucking sleep until I wrote it. The bastard.

* * *

**Chapter 8 - FightOrFlight**

Catherine sat at the break room table and sighed. She had missed this place more than she realized. The subtle smell of chemicals, even the taste of the stale coffee she was drinking. She had arrived a bit early, before everyone else actually. It gave her time to mentally prepare for all the protests she expected to come her way about returning to work so soon. She drained the last of her coffee as Warrick and Nick entered the break room. Their banter was light as usual and they didn't seem to notice Catherine at first. They both greeted her with warm smiles, grabbed some water from the fridge and joined her at the table. The talk was light but it didn't take long for one of them to drop the question.

"Don't you think it's a little early to be back in the lab so soon?" Nick had been the one to break ice.

"Not at all. I'm going to take it easy, stick around the lab. Catch up on paperwork. If I start to feel less than great, then I'll clock out and head home. No field time for this girl. Besides it's not like Grissom would let me back out there anyway." Catherine flashed a smile to seal the deal and the topic was dropped.

"Where is that guy anyway?" She asked while looking around, hoping to spot him through the glass walls.

"I don't know. Last time I actually saw him was a couple of days ago. Dropped something off to Bobby, and then he left. Haven't seen him since." Warrick took a sip of water and looked questioningly at Nick, who just shrugged in response.

"And I have the results!" Greg exclaimed, joining the group with files in hand.

"The bullet pulled from the wall didn't come from a registered gun. Naturally. But it did match up with a couple previous cases we've had, all of them unsolved."

"It's not very likely that our dead guy was a serial." Catherine said.

"You're correct. One of the reports stated that it was gang related. But there was insufficient evidence to make a case. I haven't heard the name before but maybe you guys are familiar with it, Sureños?" Greg looked around to a bunch of blank stares.

"I read the file on our dead guy, John Ramirez. It said that he was a former Norteños member, collared for drugs, took a plea and ratted out some of his fellow gangsters. It's possible that when he got out, he skipped town and joined another gang for protection. But maybe that didn't work out, and his old buddies caught up with him and decided to shut him up for good." Nick offered.

"You would think so, but you'd be wrong. The bullet pulled from the guys head also did not come from a registered gun. No surprise there. However, it too, got a hit on some old cases. One dating back as far as 7 years ago. Also gang related. But for the Black Cobras." Greg said grinning.

"Black Cobras? They disbanded years ago." Warrick said.

"Quite right you are. That's not all. We have a case file where both guns were used. The file didn't clearly state it, but judging by what's in here, they weren't used against each other. But here's the kicker." Greg tossed the files on to the table and everyone each picked on up, skimmed through it and passed it on to the next person.

"These are all first shift cases." Catherine said finally. Greg started rocking back on his heels, barely able to contain his excitement.

"Uh-huh. And what else?" Greg's eyes gleamed with delight. When no one could come up with the answer, he rolled his eyes and snatched up one of the files.

"All these cases have at least one thing in common. Everyone's favorite pain in the ass." He tossed the file back on the table, the page showing the CSI's signature.

"Ecklie." They all said in unison.

* * *

Sara sat in the dark quiet theater. She rested her forehead in her hands as she gently massaged her temples. After several deep breaths, she looked up at the screen once more, determined to watch the accident play out until the end. As she had in the past, she jumped slightly before the car rammed into the driver's side of her vehicle. But she refused to close her eyes this time. She could almost feel the heat licking the back of her neck as she watched the fire spread on screen. She watched as she pulled Catherine out of the car through the windshield and away from the fire. She looked away as she heard herself radio for help. She gasped as she heard the explosion and the screen went black, once again covering the whole room in darkness. 

This time, however, Sara entertained the possibility that no one had died. That her actions may have saved them both. That somewhere in her head, she thought that all along. But she was shaken from her thoughts by a repugnant odor. Stale cigarettes and marijuana. She went to cover her nose to hold off the smell and realized her hands had been bound behind her back. The cushioned chair she once occupied had been replaced with a hard wooden one. Then she heard that familiar voice.

"If you don't know how to sit still, I guess I'll just have to teach you how, you little bitch." The man snarled and stalked out of the room. Leaving Sara there, as fear settled inside her once more.

* * *

The shift had been long and tedious. The team poured over the old reports as discreetly as possible. They didn't want Ecklie to catch on before Grissom showed up to properly defend them. Nick had stepped out shortly to work on a missing persons case, but it turned out it was just some guy who had wandered off to a casino after forgetting to take his nightly medication. As the shift neared to an end, Catherine took off early. Her head was spinning from trying to wrap it around what was shaping up to be quite the bombshell. No one had seen nor heard from Grissom the entire time. Despite everyone calling every half hour. Where the bugman had run off to was anyone's guess. Catherine was content with sleeping now, and asking questions later. Without having to worry about Lindsey and with a day off on the horizon, Catherine drifted off into sleep with ease.

* * *

Sara huddled on the floor, her back against the wall and her arms covering her head from the array of spit and flailing arms raining down upon her. She had just wanted to use the bathroom, so she had escaped the captivity of her chair and made her way down the hall. She never did like those damn creaking floor boards, as that had been what alerted the man to her freedom. She was acutely aware of another presence, other than this screaming man, and almost dropped her hands to get a better look. This isn't how it normally plays out, she thought. The man seemed oblivious of anyone other than him and Sara, and continued with his verbal tirade. 

"You sneaky cunt. Did you think I wouldn't catch you? What a waste of human life. Biggest mistake of my life. I should have stopped with your brother. Knowing that whore, you're probably not even mine. I told her to get rid of you. But she refused. That bitch wanted a little girl, hoped for you. And where is she now? Mommy isn't here to save your ass this time." Who ever was here was now standing behind the angry man.

"The hell she isn't." The man spun around at the comment, only to have the chair Sara had previously been bound to, connect with his upper body. As he stumbled back into an adjacent wall, Sara was dragged back into the bathroom, where upon her new captor locked the door. Sara heard the sound of running water, then felt a warm wet cloth wiping her arms.

"Hey, let me see that lip." Sara looked up at Catherine, as she used the cloth to wipe the blood from her mouth. Sara refused to make eye contact and Catherine wasn't going to force it. The tense silence was broken by the sudden rattling of the door knob. Then a series of banging.

"Shit. I thought we'd have more time." Catherine looked around the small room, no windows, no weapons. Sara sat on the floor, staring blankly at the wall. The pounding on the door became more fierce and the wood groaned at the abuse. The door wasn't going to hold up for much longer. Catherine was at a loss, they were trapped in a bathroom, and the only way out was through the large angry man attempting to take down the door. Catherine crouched down next to Sara and the door.

"We have to find a way out of here." Catherine said, but Sara continued to stare blankly.

"You have to get us out of here, Sara" Sara let out a dry chuckle at the comment.

"How am I supposed to do that?" She whispered as she looked at Catherine with terrified eyes.

"Wake up." Sara looked away, her shoulders slumping lower.

"I can't." Catherine sighed. The door started making cracking sounds. Time was running out. Catherine walked over to the door, and turned her head back to Sara.

"Then can you do me one favor?" Sara looked up at the question.

"Run." Catherine reached out for the door knob.

"Catherine, no!" Sara leaped to her feet, but Catherine had already opened the door. The man had been surprised when the door flew up, even more surprised when he was tackled by Catherine. She pinned him easily at first but he quickly began to fight back. She wasn't going to keep him down for long.

"Sara, go now. If you won't wake up to escape this, then at least run away so you can." Sara stood transfixed in the doorway. The man finally over powered Catherine and threw her off him. She connected harshly and slid to the floor. Sara ran over to the injured woman and quickly asked her if she was okay.

"Will you get out of here?" Catherine hissed in pain. Sara shook her head as she stood up.

"No. I'm not going to leave you here." She turned around to face her father, who was looking quite bruised from the chair to the face. He stood there and laughed at her.

"What are you going to do? Cower like a mouse? It's the only thing you're good at, other than wasting space." He spread his arms out away from his chest.

"Go ahead. Hit me. If you think you can." Sara smiled grimly, remembering that those were the last words he had uttered in real life. She took a fighting stance, and he laughed. She delivered a swift hard blow to his gut, and he fell to the ground, gasping for breath.

"Actually, other than being a pretty damn good CSI, I'm also excellent at hand to hand combat. It's a shame that you didn't live long enough to eat your own words. But in the end it was probably for the best." Sara walked over to Catherine, and helped her to her feet. Together they walked towards the front door. Sara opened it and stepped into a blinding light.

* * *

"..And then I figured out that all the reports had that douche bags signature on them. Holy shit! Sara, can you hear me?" 

"Please stop yelling."

"No fucking way! Oh, sorry. Do you- do you remember who I am?" Sara opened one eye to look over at a tearfully happy and hopeful Greg Sanders.

"Greggo. Where's Catherine? Did she?" Sara couldn't finish the sentence.

"Don't worry babe. She's fine. Probably at home sleeping. Now shut up. I have to get a doctor." He stood to leave the room.

"Grissom?" She asked. Greg shook his head.

"I don't know where he's at. I'll call him right after I get a doctor to come look at you. You scared us all Sar, we weren't sure if you were ever gonna come back to us." With that he left the room to summon someone.

* * *

"Well, Ms. Sidle. You certainly took quite a beating. The head wound was pretty serious and you had some nasty bruises. Most of which are gone now. Everything healed up quite nicely actually. You should know that we had to remove your spleen, it had ruptured during this incident. But the surgery went fine and we will remove the stitching before you leave here." Dr. Caldwell sat on a stool at the end of the bed. 

"When can I leave here?" Sara was itching to get out of the bed.

"In a few days. We need to run some tests, see if there is any nerve damage. Also, physical therapy for your hip. Your chart says you live on your own, so we need you to be able to walk on your own before you leave here. Do you have any questions for me at this time?" He placed her chart back in its holder and stood up.

"No. Yeah. How long was I out?"

"Little over 2 weeks. You've got a little crowd outside, feeling up for some visitors?" She nodded her head, and the doctor turned and left. Warrick, Nick and Greg filed in after. They looked relieved, even a little puffy eyed, from crying or being woken up so early, Sara couldn't tell. She was just as happy to see them.

* * *

Conrad stood on Ignacio's porch. He knew there was a plan of action, but still he was afraid, as every plan up until this point had failed. 

"So?" Ignacio initiated the conversation.

"She's awake. But she won't be leaving the hospital for a few more days. And after that, I doubt she will be let out into the field."

"Don't worry about that Con. Everything has been taken care off. What about you? Do you think they have caught on yet?"

"To the unsolved cases, probably. But my involvement in it, that's unlikely. The only one keen enough to catch onto that is Grissom, and he hasn't been around lately." Ignacio smiled at this.

"So in the end, it did kind of work in the first place."

"It's best not to leave loose ends." With that, Conrad turned and walked away.

* * *

Yep. Next chapter is soon. 


End file.
